


The Resurrection Stone

by SilverShortyyy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 01:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverShortyyy/pseuds/SilverShortyyy
Summary: A year after The End, Harry comes back to help repair Hogwarts. Curses have rendered many parts of the school near impossible to repair. So a year later when Harry comes back, before he helps in repairs and restoration, he takes a trip down memory lane where he finds a certain ring, that if turned three times, would help a soul long gone come back.Severus never hated him. And sometimes love is a really hard thing to understand.





	

It's been a year since it all happened.

A year since Lupin and Tonks died. A year since Fred died. A year since he's seen Dumbledore in what he took to be King's Cross station. A year since Horcruxes and Hallows and The Chosen One and Voldemort.

A year, a complete, full, three hundred sixty-five day year, has passed since Harry had put his head in the Penseive, memories from a dying man playing in it while he lost himself in someone else's memories.

Insane as it may be, Harry found himself looking into that Penseive more often than he should. Replaying and watching and just _living_ in Severus Snape's memories, and somehow some part of Harry could believe he hadn't been so cruel to Snape, only to remember upon surfacing the Penseive that it had been too late for making amends when he had his change of heart.

He curses himself. Why couldn't Snape have let him know sooner? What if he wasn't there at the Shrieking Shack? What if, and Harry thinks this one all the time, they had come a second too late, a second too far, and when they push their way in, Snape would be dead and dead will be the secrets he kept, and dead will be everything that could've been without having at least a seed planted?

But for Merlin's sake, Harry had enough on his hands ending that Merlin damned war, had enough in his hands with Lupin dead and Tonks dead and Fred dead and Teddy orphaned and he was the godfather and nightmares and flashes and fear for the worst and—

All that, not even adding how much he mourned Severus Snape.

Snape— _no, Severus, because the person he thought of and knew now is **Severus**_ —added the most to his shoulders. Harry couldn't sleep at night, and when he finally could, he'd open his eyes and for a second think the darkness isn't the darkness and his bed didn't hold just him. He'd open his eyes and the darkness would turn into obsidian eyes, obsidian eyes and a warm hand sliding on his, telling him he'll be okay and that everything will be fine, that everything will fall into place and that it will just take time.

Merlin's retarded arse, he was tired of just hoping for things to be fine! He wanted to live again, to breathe, to be free.

But that was never the case, was it? Harry James Potter, Boy Who Lived For Who Knows How Many Fucking Times, never really lived, never really breathed, was never really free.

Never. Never in his life, for more than a moment.

Especially when his lightning scar showed off more than he wanted it to.

They're very close to restoring Hogwarts now. So much of it had crumbled because of curses and hexes and jinxes, which made putting some things back together impossible. The windows had all been either cracked or downright shattered, and Harry couldn't help but think about the window Severus had jumped out of, flying just as Harry knew Voldemort did, and Harry can't help but think of how Severus' face would look if he found out Harry finished it.

Ended it. Once and for all. Or had he?

Because life was never fair, and they both knew that, and Harry knows it ended too good to be true.

He stands at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, right where the dementors came and he froze just as Ron and Hermione froze, and it nearly was the end of them until three Patronuses came to their rescue.

When all hope was lost, there was still some to be found.

Harry didn't know what to think now.

Without much of a thought—these days Harry could barely listen to his thoughts—Harry steps into the Forbidden Forest, mindless of all that could go wrong with what he's doing. He remembers walking to his death, calm and accepting and surrendering, and he doubts that was bravery to walk into the arms of an old friend.

Friend. Friend. He could never make Severus his friend.

It was too late for that.

Harry shakes his head. No thoughts, no thoughts here, nor there, nor anywhere.

Time seems to flow just like his thoughts; soon enough, he stands in the clearing where he faced Voldemort, where he stood and let the green light take him, where the bonfire had stood, where Death Eaters eyed him down, where he thought he had died then Dumbledore told him he hadn't yet, and he came back.

He stands in the middle of it, basking in all his glory. What kind of bullshit glory was this? What kind of wretched, stupid, evil force made _this mess_ a trophy? Did they even think of what Harry wanted? Did anyone ever?

Guilt slammed into him. No thoughts, no thoughts at all.

Then his foot rolled something out of its hiding place.

Much more damaged and dirtied than before, the Resurrection Stone glinted at his feet.

Without Aragog and more spiders and Death Eaters and Voldemort, the Forest actually looked passable, a little less fearful than the rest of the world. Harry bent down and took the ring, staring it down in all its destructive power. Deathly Hallows, Horcruxes, Dark Magic. The War and everything else in all its glory.

Harry turns the ring thrice. What he wouldn't give for a simple band, silver and gold with green and red, and his surname replaced by a certain someone else's.

"You called?"

Harry twists himself around to face obsidian orbs boring into his eyes, and this time it isn't the darkness in his bedroom at 2:38 am. This time it really is, and Harry will never forget this moment, and his obsidian eyes are really there and his long black hair falls like curtains to his face. The sallow face didn't look so sallow, and Harry thinks a little bit of care and he would've rivalled James Potter in looks.

Severus Snape stands in front of him, though nothing more than an image floating in mid-air, but he was there and _he was right there_ and for a moment, Harry tries to think of something to say. But for the first time in a year, no thoughts plagued his mind.

Obsidian eyes bore into emerald. There are so many emotions there, and Harry never thought it could look that beautiful.

He imagined and he wished, but nothing could ever parallel the real thing.

"Yes. I called."

Harry stands fully now, in front of Severus Snape. They are less than an inch apart, Severus still towering over Harry though those black eyes made it feel like neither of them rose on top of the other.

In reality Harry knows it would be him, because he was the Golden Boy, probably still is, and Snape was just Potions Master and Professor and Head of House and Headmaster, nothing close to the Boy Who Lived And Defeated The Dark Lord.

Severus seems to drink Harry in, the same way Harry saw him do in those memories.

"What seems to be the problem?" His voice lacks the snark and bite, but in his eyes Harry could see Severus isn't faking it for pity, unlike so many other people. No, Severus did not have snark and bite anymore, at least not for Harry, and not in the secluded confines of this clearing.

Secluded. Harry intrrnally snorts. And just a year ago there were at least a hundred Death Eaters here.

"Nothing." _Everything._ "I just wanted to see you." _I don't want to live another day without you._ "It's a little lonely now that you're gone." _I need you._

They were never anything, so why did it feel like they could have been something?

Though nearly weightless, the leaves rustled at Severus' movements, and for a moment Harry thought Severus isn't dead after all. But, Harry knows, hoping like that even for the fraction of a millisecond is the most dangerous thing of all.

"Sit." Severus pats his lap, and Harry lets his head rest on the thin chest, lets his arms be crowded in the warmth he knows is Severus.

Why is he so real, why is he so solid? Why couldn't he be a little less there?

Severus cards through Harry's messy black hair, pulling at tangles and taming wild curls. Harry looks behind him, and still Severus is there, all sallow skin and black hair and deep, intoxicating, obsidian eyes.

Harry will not look away. Not for anything, not until he's done here.

The Resurrection Stone has slipped on his finger, the ring resting there as if it had made itself at home.

But Harry knows he'll have to let go at some point.

"Is it true that Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley are in cahoots now?"

Despite himself, Harry lets out a soft laugh.

"Yeah, they're together now." _I wish we could be, too._ "I can see that at some point they'll be married." _If only Voldemort hadn't killed you._

"Oh is that so? My, I never thought Mr. Weasley would snog anywhere else other than in every Hogwarts corridor."

Despite themselves, they smile.

Harry lets his hand creep up, feeling Severus' hair between his fingers.

They didn't feel greasy at all. They feel like silk as black as night.

Harry smiles up at Severus, and Severus' eyes sparkle as Harry never thought it could.

"You deserve more than you got, you know. You deserved a better life."

"Yes, but, Mr. Potter, had I gotten a better life, had my parents been better than they were, had I never been Snivellus or Death Eater or all else that I am known to be, we would not be sitting here for we might not have even met."

"But my parents would probably know you. You would still be in their year."

"Though only by name, I'd suppose. Because if my parents were any better off, I wouldn't have been sneaking around spying on girls my age from the better neighborhood."

Sad eyes meet sad eyes, unshed tears glinting in green and black. No matter what Harry knows it to be, Severus looks completely solid to him.

Harry doesn't want to think of what life will be after this.

Severus had begun stroking Harry's head, and Harry could have been cradled in Severus' arms if not for being this big. Harry sits in the valley between Severus' legs, Severus having sat Indian style.

When Severus speaks, his voice is quiet.

"That Weasley girl, do you still fancy her?"

The unsaid is loud enough for both of them to hear.

_'You should marry her. She'd be good for you. The person you want to marry is dead.'_

"She doesn't deserve me. I don't want her."

_'Why can't it just be you?'_

"You could fall in love again. Fall for her, maybe fix yourself before you do."

_'No matter how far you fall, you'd only hurt yourself falling for someone who's already dead  
_

_'I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore.'_

"But what if I can't fall again? What if I'm already falling for someone else?"

_'I'm falling for **you**. I'm in love with **you**. You, Severus Snape. **You**.'_

Severus takes a gulp, but without letting a tear fall and letting unshed tears shine in his obsidian eyes.

"Harry, we both know you can't do this."

_'Please, get over me.'_

Silence engulfs them, and it seems to escape their notice how real Severus' tears are, the magnitude of them, how much pain and sadness are swimming in those obsidian eyes.

It's a choked sob, but the tears are flowing from emerald eyes too, and Harry doesn't know how to say it anymore than he knows how to feel.

"But I'm in love with you!"

Harry cries into Severus' chest, and maybe they're just fooling each other when they say Severus had become solid as a person, telling each other lies that Severus Snape might not be so dead after all.

"And I, you, Harry. But we both know nothing will come from either of us holding on to this."

Severus pulls Harry back and Harry looks into Severus' eyes. Black, pure, pure black. But the warmest black there could ever be, warm and beautiful and perfect, and its all Harry can do not to fall deeper into the hole he's dug, fall deeper into the pit he's made entitled 'Severus Snape'.

"Harry, I'm in love with you. And you're in love with me. But grant me this wish and fall in love again, if not with Ginevra then anyone else. Fall, and even for a moment forget that you love me. Live, for you have a long life to live, and I don't give a rat's arse what the rest of them think of you, because after all you've been through, you deserve the world more than the world deserves you.

"So please, let me go."

Harry closes his eyes and lets more tears fall, more tears burn into the lines already etched on his cheeks, and he pulls himself up to meet Severus' lips and the man indulges him, indulges his wishes so impossible for just a moment, and Harry emblazons it in his mind because he can't, he can't, he just _can't_ , but he knows he has to so for one more moment, one last moment, he lets himself have this.

When their lips part and emerald stares into obsidian, Harry could feel Severus pulling at the ring that brought him to Harry. Slowly, slowly, he seems to disappear, and after one last look Severus Snape fades into the afternoon light, and the Forbidden Forest never looked so sad in the eight years Harry has known it.

He wants to, but he can't, but he finds his emerald eyes scanning the clearing for any sign of the Resurrection Stone for just one last look, one last moment more, but Harry knows he's gotten more than should be so he walks away but never forgets, because the tingling of his lips is the most he's felt since, and it's been a year since Harry's felt anything but empty, void, and numb.

Emerging out of the tree line, Harry proceeds to the rebuilding ruins of the castle. His and Severus' home. The first home they have ever known, the only real home that ever will be.

Harry waves a hello and goes on to help with the rest of them, despite McGonagall's protests. But even McGonagall should know that Harry hasn't smiled nor laughed in a year, even if Harry's eyes shone sadness in the afternoon light, with tear tracks burning down his cheeks.

_"So please, let me go."_

So Harry does and Harry tries. But beneath everything that happens in the next years of his life, there is still Severus Snape, and how much Harry will always love him.


End file.
